A Man Of Quality
by Alex DeLyan
Summary: AU. What if Edward left the West Indies years earlier than he had in AC4? Find out as he prepares to forget about the observatory, turn his back on the assassins and sails for Bristol, coffers brimming. Can he truly call himself a man of quality?


A Man Of Quality

Such Lofty Goals

1718, January, Havana

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AU IN WHICH EDWARD KENWAY LEAVES THE CARIBBEAN YEARS EARLIER THAN IN THE EVENTS OF AC 4. FIND OUT THE IMAPCT IT HAS ON THE ASSASSINS FOR YEARS TO COME.

* * *

"Me? I've no intention of sticking 'round the Indies and I never planned on delving into the life of a pirate, Ben." I said firmly, slapping down a deck of cards onto the table.

"How many times must you be told, Kenway? Stay here, come back to Nassau!" He urged, growing worked up about my decision to leave at the end of the year.

"And why would I want to do that, Hornigold?" I asked wryly.

"Fine booze, finer women and the security of good company. What more could a man want for?" Ben responded, doing his best to sound persuasive. The effect he desired to give couldn't have been further from his words for me. All I wanted was to be back home, in Bristol. Tucked up in a silky bed, Caroline by my side and Emmet foaming at the mouth in resentment out of me proving him wrong. Those thoughts almost made me jump up from the table and sail out of Havana in seconds, powerful was their allure.

"Do you not dream of the things you always wanted in England? A paradise from paradise?" I gave him a penetrating gaze, deep in his eyes.

"England? Who needs England? Look around you. Here, the free, roam free. We're not losing our grip on Nassau. Nah. We're expanding into the rest of the Caribbean." He said. "If you reckon that harlot back in Bristol's still waiting for you to come home, boots full of booty, then you'd be sorely mistaken." He added. That was beyond the pale.

"Have you ever met Caroline?" I asked him. He shook his head in defeat. "Thank you. Besides, aren't the scantly-clad wenches of New Providence not worthy of such a label?" I went on, keen to hear his input on the women of The Bahamas night.

"Perhaps. But at least they live the life they want. Can you say the same?" He gulped down a tankard of rum and left the courtyard. I thought on what he had said. Thought. Not dwelled. My mind was made up. I'd accumulated all I wanted. Another year and I'd be in Bristol Port, on my way to pick up my wife from her toff of a father's house on Hawkins lane. No more sleeping in a freezing cold outhouse. Downing my own flagon of rum, I stood and made for the exit of the tavern. Pulling my hood over my face, I passed through the streets and markets of Cuba, until I brought myself to the harbour. She sat, towering proud over Hornigold's little schooner. The Jackdaw.

His might have been a bit more protected but the beauty of my brig at sunset was unbeatable. Whenever I looked over to it, I was instantly filled with a strong sense of pride. Ben was sitting on a crate aboard the Benjamin, sharpening his dagger. "Lets to Nassau, lads!" He ordered his crew as he stood, leaving for the security of his quarters. Rushing over to the Benjamin, I scurried up the gangplank and chased after him.

"You know this pardon on offer, Ben," I said, getting his attention as I sat myself down in his chamber "are you taking it?"

"No. At least, not yet. But if Nassau does deteriorate, I'll have no choice." He spoke softly, quietly. "And, if I do, I know I'll have failed as the leader of the republic." He added. "Surely a seasoned sailor such as yourself isn't considering bowing and scraping to the king?" He queried, sardonically.

"Can't believe you'd even suggest it. No, I'm making my way out of the West Indies up to my eyeballs with coin." I retorted, slapping my thigh. He grinned, now polishing his cutlass. Bringing myself to my feet, I left his ship and swung over to my own. "At ease lads!" I shouted down to the unruly band of men on deck making fun of our latest addition to the crew. "Why do they tease him?" I asked Adé, placing a firm hand on the wheel.

"Something about his daughter baking him cakes. The rest of the boys think him effeminate for eating them." He explained, pointing out the young deckhand. "Not bad, actually." He went on, producing a muffin and scoffing it down.

"Haha. I take it you showed him some kindness?"

"Aye. Getting the right people on your side can be very profitable," he said, chewing on the baked piece of food "tasty, too."

"Oi! Save some for meself." I exclaimed, cheekily swiping a crum or two.

"If you want one, go down and talk to him. Might be doing him a favour. Those lot would follow you to hell and back. Even if you were caught munching a cookie."

"Aye. I might just do that. Set a course for Nassau." Spinning the wheel, I backed out of the harbour and sailed out to the open ocean.


End file.
